Millions
by AQLM
Summary: Three months from the end of the Reaper war and the destruction of the Crucible, Liara is left contemplating life without Shepard in a galaxy of worlds that are still smoldering. How will she, and the child she is carrying, find a place among the millions who suffer in the galaxy Shepard created?
1. Chapter 1: Direction

Note: In this variant, a female Shepard initiated a variant of the destroy ending. The Reapers themselves were rendered completely inert, all Reaper creations died where they stood, Reaper technology ceased to function, and indoctrinated creatures regained their minds. No other technology or race was harmed. Shepard is MIA and presumed dead. The Crucible expended its energy, teleported the Citadel back to the Serpent Nebula, then detached and exploded.

When a word is spoken enough times, it loses all meaning. The letters split from the interpretation, the sound becomes unreal, and the syllables are rendered foreign as they spill off the tongue. For Liara, the word afforded this linguistic trickery was "millions". It came across her terminal so often. In the casualty dispatches from exhausted commanders. In the lists of missing recited by the news. In the frantic requests for resources from a hundred burning worlds.

On her more cynical days, Liara had Glyph render the numbers in ancient Thessian rune-script, Prothean tapping code, or even primitive Earthen hexadecimal. She'd shift the translators from Turian to Volus and back again, challenging herself to parse the message without any technological aid. Anything to relieve the constant repetition of a word people felt comfortable saying because "billions" was too excruciating. Millions. Millions and millions. A word with no meaning but pain.

She pushed away from her expanse of monitors and rested her tense blue forehead on her hands. The agony she had expended about the millions dying on Thessia seemed a distant whisper. On Palavan, the bodies had fallen so thickly that all funeral rites were suspended in favor of quick prayer and massive pits. Earth was a roiling cinder and Khar'shan a glassy rock. The thoroughness of Thessia's pummeling was mitigated by its relative brevity. More so than others, her people still stood. What right had she to grieve?

But objectivity did not come easily when the call for supplies were Asari. The bodies of the fallen husks had contaminated their colony's water supply, bringing a plague that was wiping out the survivors. Could the Shadow Broker arrange for a filtration system, or medications, or perhaps enough flashfire to burn their corpses? They could not pay, but certainly the Shadow Broker could use a few grateful warriors to do his will, or grateful bodies to fill his bed. The Shadow Broker gave his assurances, as always, and took the dossiers of those who would serve, and filed both away in a file of empty promises.

Equipment from where? Which planet had a glut of resources that it would happily throw at another race? Starved and battered children to throw in front of whom? The doctor was not so callous as to spill blood for the sake of collecting a debt. And share her bed? Never. Only one woman had ever done that and, save a restored Lazarus project, no other woman would again.

"Shepard," she whispered aloud. "My love, was this your legacy? A galaxy saved from the Reapers so it could die in a wasteland of pestilence and famine? How many more months until the ones you saved curse your name?"

The life within Liara stirred restlessly at the sound of her father's name. Shepard's other legacy, albeit a hidden one, tended not to agree with Liara's forays into despair. The Asari leaned back and rubbed her stomach thoughtfully. If the galaxy were doomed, Liara would not bring a new life into it. Technology and philosophy offered her outlets from pregnancy. Yet here she was. Waiting with some anxiousness to see the daughter who Shepard would never know, wondering how much of the Commander this little one would carry in the curve of her face and the strength of her will. It was a secret, though; Liara was not ready to share.

The door chime startled her and she unsuccessfully tamped down the rush of excitement at its sound. A mere five months since the Normandy had lost its Captain left Liara still expecting the lean frame and loving smirk to grace her quarters. Instead it was the compact frame and dark eyes of Major Alenko, whose mission was no less important but whose presence lacked the gravitas and desire of his predecessor.

"Dr. T'soni," he stated, his approach formal as always. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, of course not Kaidan," she replied, favoring the more casual address. "What can I do for you?"

"The Normandy has been recalled to the Citadel for a mission debriefing. We have a little time before we need to arrive, though. Are there any things you or," he raised an eyebrow, "the Shadow Broker require before we do so?"

She gave him a freckled half-smile. "No, thank you. I have finished consulting with the research team in the labs below. Of course, I am certain the Shadow Broker will let me know when the Normandy's services will be next required. And what about you?"

Kaidan offered a noncommittal shrug. "A lot of calls from all over the galaxy, some human, some alien, some official Navy business and some specter. I have a lot of choices…" His voice trailed off.

It was a rare display of public uncertainty from the Normandy's interim captain. Kaidan had none of Shepard's powerful leadership and command inspiration. It was doubtful he could rally the galaxy in the way Shepard had. But in a time of relative peace, overseeing a crew of wounded and overwhelmed humans, Kaidan's quiet steadiness and resolute presence would suffice. And for those who needed more fire, the ever present James Vega strode around Kaidan like a faithful pit bull, snapping at anyone who dare step out of line. The two men were oddly and evenly matched, a good captain and good first officer in the most unlikely circumstance. But in private, Kaidan would like the façade waiver.

"No one would blame you, Kaidan, if you decided to prioritize human needs over those of other members of the galaxy. Certainly that is what… she… would have done if given the option."

He leaned against the door and tilted his head against the bent metal bulkhead. "She would, wouldn't she? But not unless she was sure there was someone else to take care of the rest of the galaxy. Sometimes, I think the only people left are us."

"That may be. So I will give you the same advice that I had to give her: you can't save the galaxy alone. And part of not being alone is taking care of your own people as often as you take care of someone else."

"I know," he said with a long exhale. "I keep waiting to be reassigned to some sort of Earth detail or for the Normandy to be handed over to one of the admirals. No one wants to replay Shepard. Hell, the only reason I'm here is because I'm willing to carry her legacy." He stood up again and ran a dark hand through his spiky black hair.

"Anyway," he said brusquely, "I will let Joker know Liara going to make a stop at what's left of the Watson colony to see if we can deliver some medicine and pick up some food supplies. Speaking of which, if you want to join us for dinner, you're welcome to."

Liara rose and followed him out of her office. "That sounds lovely." She could do nothing about the millions right now. Attending to her needs would have to suffice.


	2. Chapter 2: Humanity

The Normandy was a human ship. The smattering of alien races, ancient and new, who had graced her quarters did not diminish that. The Turian design had been co-opted by the human and not the other way around. Human faces manned every post, human languages filled the mess halls, human lives were sacrificed for their own planet or countless other worlds.

Liara had supposed the defeat of the Reapers would strip the Normandy of its complement. She knew dozens upon dozens of Asaris who returned to Thessia, Illium, and outlying colonies to search for their loved ones among the wreckage or to try their hand at rebuilding the smoldering shell of a planet. Some thought to breed a new generation. After all, someone had to replace the generations they carelessly tossed away by dancing, fucking, and murdering their way across the galaxy instead of preparing for the ultimate evil. Earth had been so crushed by the Reapers that Liara believed the grim duty of every human would be to return home to salvage what they could.

But the ranks of the Normandy had instead swelled. Quarters that were once barely full now were stacked top to bottom with bunk-beds full of soldiers trying to grab sleep between busy shifts. The mess hall was almost always short of supplies, with the chef now relying on a somewhat tasteless protein supplement to accommodate a legion of extra mouths. Liara heard Kaidan turning down request after request, with the stalwart Vega occasionally lobbying for, "Just one more good bro."

It would seem so many of humans had lost so many others that there was nothing Earth could hold for them. They would rather find their fortune hopping from planet to scorched planet, trying to rebuild the Reapers had taken without looking at the ruins of their own home. It was a tactic the Krogan had used to cope with the emptiness of the genophage and Liara hoped it was not a sign that humanity was going to descend to absolute chaos.

Liara felt outnumbered now, even more than before. She'd always been the lone Asari on the Normandy but Shepard had made her feel welcome. Not just in her bed, of course. Though that didn't hurt. One too many leering or curious stares from the crew could be instantly counteracted by a single all-encompassing gaze from the commander and woman who loved her. No such buffer any longer.

She followed Kaiden to that overflowing middle deck and slid in among a handful of the interchangeable human faces. Good soldiers all, she knew. But the loss of everyone that she cared about made her even more reluctant to befriend the short-lived race. Their race was chatty and pushy in ways other races were not, making them an asset when you wanted communication and a liability when you wanted contemplative silence.

Doctor Chakwas sat next to the scientist and offered a bowl of protein supplement. Liara obtained a bit of silverware from another crew member and stirred the grayish semi-solid. She drew a handful of Asari letters within it, then a few letters of English that she blurred with another pass of the spoon.

The greying doctor leaned close, ensuring that her words could be heard only by the grumpy Asari and said, "Eat, Liara. You're not going to help rebuild either the Asari or human races if you refuse to nourish yourself and that…you know…"

She indicated the still small belly tucked beneath the mess hall table. "I can keep your secret but as your doctor I will not let you fail to take care of yourself."

Liara sagged and acquiesced, scooping some up and eating it gingerly. At least the texture had improved. "Thank you, doctor," she sighed, putting in another mouthful. Humanity.

"Have you given any thought to where you're going next, Liara," said Kaidan, sitting beside her, both keeping her from leaving and insulating her from most unwelcome visitors.

"I haven't yet, Kaidan," she answered truthfully. "It would make sense for me to return to Thessia but the galaxy needs so much right now. Really, my skills as an information broker can do more good than just being…" She let the argument die in her throat.

"You're not the only one who doesn't want to go home Liara," noted Kaidan. He subtly tilted his head towards his crew, concealing any hint of disapproval. "I think Shepard would be disappointed that we all seem to have abandoned Earth."

"Nah, I doubt it. Lola was always good about understanding how people worked," interjected Vega, appearing from nowhere and shoving a hunk of bread into his oversized mouth.

"She would've known that sometimes smashing your face on a problem won't solve it, so you gotta take time away. Get some new angles, ya know? Regroup." He paused and glanced down. "Hey, you gonna eat that," he said, indicating Liara's food.

To Dr. Chakwas' dismay, Liara slide the bowl over. Vega downed the slop in a single happy chug. "Damn, that brings back memories. I remember back in the corps when this was a feast after two months of dry rations." He spun the bowl back on the table.

"Anyway, what I'm saying is everyone on here is gonna go back home, Doc. Even you." He clapped a huge, perennially filthy hand on her shoulder. "A month from now, half of these guys will be up to their asses in salvage operations and farming." He laughed, presumably at some inappropriate mental vision of human anatomy and the finer points of farming. Crass human humor didn't always translate.

He went a bit more serious. "They just gotta get past it all. And if flyin' with the Normandy helps, the more the merrier." He flung out a giant arm, clotheslining an unfortunate crewman who got too close to his exuberance.

"Maybe so, James," said Liara ambiguously. She tilted a blue head towards his stocky frame as he scooped up and apologized to the addled soldier.

In textbooks about aliens, a sample diagram of sex-specific physiology would be included. The textbooks usually exaggerated secondary sex characteristics, from Krogan head scales to Turian fringes, to better convey the differences to uneducated readers. James always reminded her of one of those illustrations. With his bulging muscles, deep voice, and Krogan-like aggression, James was almost a caricature of the human male. Reliable, predictable, and easy to handle.

"Trust me. I might not know…have known…," he corrected quickly, "Lola in the way you did." There was the predictable lecherous expression. "But she got my head on right after all that stuff happened back on Fehl Prime."

"I know," stated Liara flatly. "As I seem to recall, it involved a great deal of physical brutality inflicted as punctuation during your 'chat'."

Shepard had let Liara apply the medigel to the bruises James didn't know he had inflicted, the Asari swearing she would never let James talk to her love again if this was going to be the end result. A rare chiding from her partner followed, informing Liara that Vega could break her arm if it meant he suffered less. A reminder that shooting a gun was easy. That medigel was easy. That letting a world burn was hard. That letting people die for nothing was agony. That it was a lesson Shepard wished Liara would never learn. That it happened anyway.

"Right," he cried, oblivious to her discomfort. "Now, I can't go a round or two with everyone on this ship because that would mean Dr. Chakwas wouldn't get to sleep for a week." The older woman sighed and shook her head in a way that pretended to be aggravation.

"But James has ensured he cycles new soldiers into his fire teams on a regular basis," interjected Kaidan. "Especially when missions will require great physical exertion."

Vega gave him a toothy grin. "You noticed, Chill?"

"I did indeed, Mr. Vega," replied Kaidan. "I have also noticed those soldiers demonstrate significant emotional and physical improvement even if you don't personally punch them in the face. Which I appreciate, James." The smooth-toned captain rose from the table, allowing the Asari to pass by him.

"Well, I appreciate all you're doing for the crew, James," said Liara stiffly. She needed to get away from their human attempts at comfort. "Now if you'll excuse me."

She strode back to her quarters, ignoring the marine when he said he'd stock up on medigel if she ever wanted to talk with him.


	3. Chapter 3: Absence

Liara woke sweating and frustratingly aroused. This was her bed, not the one that she had shared with Shepard on the upper decks of the Normandy. She opened her eyes to a bulkhead , not an array of fleeting stars. Regardless of the reality of Shepard's death, Liara's body would miss the commander's expert touch and the warm nights Shepard had spent in between battles being the lover Liara had always wanted. Shepard had been attentive, alternating fierce and gentle when the mood demanded, shifting and touching to fulfill needs Liara never knew she had.

The Asari threw back her sheets and gazed at the ceiling. Had she been dreaming? Or just an unconscious reaction, reminding her that there was nothing but self-pleasuring in her immediate or distant future. Asari sexuality did not rampage and roar like human sexuality but that didn't mean Liara was immune from want. And want she did, be it due to the pregnancy or the longing for familiarity and comfort. She dug her fingernails into her fists and did nothing instead.

She got up. She paced. She wandered the room. She sat down at her console and looked at the piles of data waiting for her to process, closed the files again and put her head in her hands. She got up once more. There is nothing in this room that would give her what she wanted. There was just emptiness and work. She dressed herself completely and left her room. The mess hall was quiet, the nearby duty stations mostly empty. Dr. Chakwas had long since gone to sleep, leaving the medbay dimmed and empty. Time was a single rogue Geth had lived there, or so she'd been told; Legion's visit had been during those awful years when Shepard was dead and then far from her arms.

How had Liara dealt back then? When Shepard had died the first time, Liara had been there, feeling her fingertips slip away from her love. Liara had sat in dumb horror as the human was swept away into the void, a scream caught in the back of her throat as the escape pod drifted into the void. Liara had spent the next few months feeling like she was being strangled, trying to sleep while the vision of Shepard's last agonizing moments filled her mind's eye. Then, she started channeling her grief and shame into the search for Shepard's body.

At first the journey had been to reclaim the body of her love to gain closure. When the Collectors became involved, it was a mission of vengeance against Shepard's killers and a strike against a hated foe. When Cerberus intervened, it had become more complicated: honoring the traditions of humanity versus dealing with the devil who had been an enemy and hindrance through their long fight against Saren.

Well, Cerberus was never as much a devil to the Asari as it was to humanity and other races. Fringe terrorist groups had been attempting to bring down Asari civilization for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. A bunch of skulking humans with a self-righteous bent and relatively primitive technology wasn't going to make a much of a dent. That conceit had been proven deadly wrong when Cerberus handily contributed to the fall of Thessia, but at the time it had been Liara's firm belief. She did not revise her history. The archeologist in her would shudder.

Once the body had been delivered into the smooth hands of Miranda Lawson, Liara had known somewhere in her heart, Shepard would be brought back to life. Liara had gone on to build a network and a life on Ilium, trying to drive the thoughts of Shepard out of her head. It worked to a point. But as long as Cerberus was trying to revive her beloved, there was a thread of hope spun around her heart, keeping her from healing the wound over cleanly. Thus, her mourning was less complete.

There was also the simple fact that Liara and Shepard had consummated but not solidified their fledgling relationship. Those weeks of getting acquainted as lovers instead of colleagues after the defeat of Saren on the Citadel were rapidly followed by Shepard's death. A love, or at least the makings of one, cut short.

Most of her relationship with Shepard had been longing, she realized. It had been abstract. It had been time upon time of waiting for something to happen. Even before Shepard came to Therum, Shepard was an idea, some nebulous person who would rescue her from the Prothean trap. Before that, someone who would rescue her from her loneliness as she went to dig site after dig site. Then Shepard was a body waiting to be revived, with nothing but memories to occupy the Asari's mind.

Truly they had only been together for less than a year between Shepard's revival and her loss at the final battle of the Citadel. They had spent only a few weeks of happiness, or at least as close to happiness as you could get when you were the commander of the starship and were darting from system to system in search for tools to defeat the Reapers. Then Shepard was ordered back to Earth, away from Liara's arms, and Liara had once again buried her need for Shepard under layers of work. After Mars, their relationship was nothing more than battle after battle, setback after endless setback, with Liara waiting at night for Shepard to crawl beside her and fall into a universe of nightmares.

So this was it, Liara noted to herself. For all her love, she had mainly pursued a relationship with a ghost, an idea. It was true most Asari spent more time mourning their bondmates than loving them, especially if they chose a shorter-lived race. Any relationship shorter than a few centuries was considered a breath, a fleeting memory, no more important than a single day. No Asari would have waited as Liara did, but then again, no Asari had bonded with Shepard.

Liara found herself pacing in the empty mess hall, interrupted briefly by the soldier who wandered out to use the head, give her an odd glance, and returned to his duty station. Liara wished she could go back into her room but that would only bring more aching loneliness. Finally, she went into the elevator sought out the only person she cared about who she knew would be awake at this time.

Most people thought otherwise, but the Normandy's brilliant pilot actually did sleep and was not grafted into his seat like a Collector overseer. Instead, the android who served as the mobile platform, to borrow a Geth term, for the Normandy's unshackled AI sat quietly in Joker's chair, manually adjusting controls with the android body. EDI could fly the ship while everyone was sleep… or dead… from within her AI core. In spite of that, a tactile body, even one that was synthetic, made humans feel better than wandering into an empty cockpit.

"Dr. T'Soni," said EDI evenly. "What can I do for you this evening?"

"I…" Liara started, then stopped, baffled. She didn't know what she expected from EDI. Of all the people on the ship, EDI was probably the least qualified to deal with loss.

"I couldn't sleep, I guess," said Liara lamely.

It was completely accurate, even if it was wholly insufficient. She didn't want to explore the intricacies of sexual desire with an AI who, as far as Liara knew, didn't have any. The insinuations about EDI and Joker were too intimate, too creepy, and too difficult for her right now.

"I understand," said EDI. "I often find Jeff acts the same way when something is troubling him. Is something troubling you Dr. T'Soni?"

EDI gestured with a silver toned hand that Liara should sit in the battle station next to her. It was impossible for Liara to hit anything that would cause the Normandy to start launching missiles or head for the nearest barely functioning mass rely. Still, it felt a little odd to be sitting in the jump seat and Liara angled her body away from the console.

"Do you miss Shepard?" Liara ventured. It was a covert and hesitant tone that wasn't quite accurate. She didn't want to talk about the android's feelings. It was merely easier than dealing with her own.

"That is an interesting question," stated EDI. Her fingers moved across the glowing screen in a completely meaningless gesture. "As an AI, I am always aware of the people in the ship. I notice routines and interactions, which in turn allows me to anticipate and act more efficiently. I could easily automate most of the crew's daily activities if such a thing did not upset them."

EDI tilted her head towards Liara, mimicking a thinking human pose.

"Over the time Shepard served on the Normandy, I became accustomed to her requests, from asking what food was available in the mess hall to giving me commands prior to a battle. I often prepared a full list of potential questions and occasionally ventured information even when she did not ask. When she died, I attempted to rewrite the subroutines dedicated to her."

EDI stopped and tilted her head down. "I was surprised at how difficult it was to erase those sectors." She paused briefly.

"I admit I have not done so. My core is largely optimized and I am programmed to operate at full capacity even under significant data fragmentation; keeping those routines intact does not affect my performance," EDI was swiftly reassuring in a way Liara did not require. The gesture was still appreciated.

"Nevertheless, I am aware of the programming and how long it has been since it was last accessed."

EDI looked at Liara again. "I am also aware that the evolution of my core programming has slowed considerably since the end of the Reaper war. Shepard encouraged my exploration and provided direction in ways no one else has accomplished. Without her, I am no longer able to change as efficiently. So yes, I believe that I do 'miss' her."

Liara sat and reflected on the AI's conversation. It was nice to have someone share her feelings on Shepard without expecting Liara to soothe her. Dealing with other people's shared grief was tiring. She knew they all missed Shepard. Millions upon millions of the galaxy missed Shepard; they all came to tell her so. Liara wanted to carry no part of their grief or their thanks. The only part of Shepard Liara wanted to carry was the baby within her.

"Have I offended you, Dr. T'Soni," inquired EDI. "I do not mean to reduce Shepard to a collection of data inputs. My ability to convey human emotions is still limited."

"No, EDI, that's not it at all" reassured Liara, waving blue fingers in dismissal. "I was just thinking that you are the only person who hasn't personally come to my office and told me how sorry they are. And that's not a bad thing," added Liara hastily.

"I have observed that many humans offer condolences as a way of having their own needs met," agreed EDI. "Jeff says it's because humans need to share grief to heal. I find the concept selfish and unfair to the person who is suffering most." EDI paused. "

Once again, EDI concealed her face as a human might when trying to lessen a difficult emotion. "But I am sorry, Liara. I know the depth of your relationship with Shepard and cannot fully comprehend the loss you feel. I think the closest approximation I have encountered was when the Normandy was taken from me. I could not imagine what would happen if Joker..."

EDI brought herself back up to her firm, normal posture. "I just did it," she observed in a quick, horrified tone. "I just used your grief as a way of expressing my own fears. I will need to reevaluate my social planning…"

"Don't worry about it," stated Liara. "We are both getting used to human mannerisms. An error like this means you're getting better, right?"

"I suppose so. Dr. T'Soni, may I change the topic?"

"Please." Liara was done talking about missing Shepard. It was all she did. She found it as numbing to talk about as it was discussing how data transfer systems work.

EDI crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap, no longer pretending to fly the ship. "I do not know if this is appropriate, Liara, but I want to know if you have chosen a name for the baby?"

Liara paused. She had not formally told anyone besides Kaidan and the doctor, but this made sense. EDI could eavesdrop on the many private conversations Liara had with the other two officers. Liara decided to explore more fully.

"It is appropriate to ask, though I am curious about how you knew."

"I noted your caloric consumption had recently increased and that Dr. Chakwas had surreptitiously requisitioned a different set of Asari multivitamins. But I have to admit I heard a second heartbeat the last time you visited the bridge."

EDI looked a little sheepish, or as much as she could without being able to move all her face. "I know it is not necessarily appropriate to ask someone about a supposed pregnancy, but you are the first pregnant Asari I have met." EDI blinked mechanically. "In fact, you are the only pregnant humanoid I have met."

"Well, on the circumstances, I appreciate your being forthright." Liara thought about her relationship with EDI and recognize that the machine would be unlikely to take offense in the same way as a human.

"To be honest, I worried the way you had found out was that you were listening to my conversations with Kaidan and Dr. Chakwas."

I do pay attention to all conversations being had on the Normandy and all times, if only because it allows me to monitor for people calling my name. However, I have a filter that allows me to selectively screen out conversations clearly not meant for me, though I save all data for later use. I am aware of your talking but I choose to ignore it until prompted."

She tilted her head at Liara. "Do you believe the rest of the crew feels as you do? That they think I'm listening at all times."

"I believe that would be an accurate statement. Newcomers especially."

"I see," EDI looked thoughtful. "Would it be appropriate for me to offer everybody reassurances that I am not checking in on that at all times?"

EDI. Always looking for a solution to make her human inhabitants feel better. "That might have the opposite effect," said Liara gently. "I think some of them have learned to ignore that you are everywhere at all times and reminding them that might paradoxically make them more uncomfortable than before."

"I think I understand. Humanity will always be a bit of a puzzle but I'm getting better."

"Now to answer your question," Liara started, "No. I haven't thought of a name. I will wait until I see her to give her the provisional name, then her true name when she is a year old."

"I see. My databanks suggest there are multiple modes of thinking regarding Asari naming customs. I see you have chosen the less modern variant."

"It has fallen out of favor," agreed Liara "It used to be done to remind us our parents not put expectations on their children before they are born. Now that our society has much more freedom, the practice was deemed unnecessary."

Liara idly rubbed her stomach. The baby was quiet, shifting barely underneath her fingers. Right now, she was relying on the custom to keep her from going insane. She was expecting things out of this little girl, primarily that she would be a constant and welcome reminder of the love she had lost and that was deeply unfair to a baby or to any individual. No child could replace a parent. No baby could replace a savior.

"Well, I am certain that when you do pick the name, it will be appropriate to Shepard's legacy." EDI stated this diplomatically and in a tone that suggested Liara was welcome to take her leave at any time. Perhaps she sensed that Liara was becoming uncomfortable and beginning to miss Shepard more than when she came in.

"Thank you, EDI. Maybe when she is born, I will take suggestions from the entire crew. Though I am slightly nervous to think what Joker might come up with. I may have to give his suggestion lower priority."

"That may be wise," acknowledged EDI. Liara rose to go. "Have a good evening, Dr. T'Soni. I hope you can sleep.

"Thank you, EDI," Liara stated again, leaving the bridge and walking back to her quarters. Glyph gave a chirp of acknowledgment as she came in. She asked it to put himself into a standby mode with its concurrent loss of sensory activity and it powered down into his projector. Then she lay down in her bed and let her hands wander to give herself the release she had been dreaming of. It was empty not having Shepard attached, but at the end, she did feel closer to the woman whose life she had shared. She went back to sleep and was lucky when her dreams were empty and formless.


	4. Chapter 4: Purpose

The Normandy docked at the Citadel and allowed its entire crew to disembark. It was a restocking run as much as it was an assignment. The new human counselor had still not been chosen. Indeed, the remaining council members were wary of adding a human back to the Council. The first and only human counselor had turned out to be a spy for terrorist group that was affiliated with the Reapers. Who was to say the next counselor be any better? So, Kaidan had gone to argue the case for humanity's spot on the Council, and enlisted a few other human dignitaries who had been shuttled from Earth for just that purpose. And there were the infant individual missions of the other crewmembers. Much of that time is going to be spent on searching for new information for loved ones or perhaps establishing their next position.

Liara stepped onto the dock and walked towards intake. The Citadel still held its millions, it's inhabitants flooding through the wards in the arms like they had since the Citadel was built by the reapers millions of years ago. The refugee population had waned a little as individual planets became more habitable. Even the Batarian presence had lessened. One of their colonies towards the edge of the Terminus systems had been selected as a potential resettlement site. A sad fact was the total remaining Batarian population would easily fit on a single planet for years to come.

The slim Asari glanced quickly at the Batarian refugees milling around the endless boxes of cargo in the docking bays. Desperate Batarian forces had depleted their weapon stores in the early days of the Reaper invasion to little success. Now the planet was an uninhabitable husk due more to bioweapon and nuclear contamination as than to Reaper destruction. The Salarians might be able to reconstruct Karshan as they did Tuchanka, but that would require more good will towards the Batarians than anyone possessed right now.

C-Sec scanned her through without incident and she made her way quietly towards the shuttle transport system. Certainly she still had friends and acquaintances on the city but she wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. This was a trip of replenishment and not of trip of business, at least, not yet. She wasn't in the mood to be the Shepard loss confessional again.

The shuttle sped past the rebuilt portions of the Citadel. A few sections of the arms had been rendered habitable once more, though it would be decades before they were fully restored to their state before the Reapers. The keepers had continued their nameless and silent duties, assisting the inhabitants as always. Still, Liara was uncomfortable. Shepard's data feed from the heart of the Citadel showed a previously unknown network of tunnels ideal for processing a galaxy's worth of biological matter. Millions of keepers helped obliterate millions of life forms. Considering this, would it be prudent to disable the keepers? They were tools of the Reapers even as they were part of the Citadel maintenance. Who knew what would happen if the Reapers did not call them again?

Liara arrived at the apartment that Shepard had acquired from Captain Anderson. It still seemed out of place with the commander's staid personality and dislike of all things garish. But it had been home, however briefly. Shepard had seemed at peace there in a way she had never on the Normandy. The Normandy might have been where she lived, but the ship was a place of battle and endless preparation. This sprawling place had no such function and could only create good memories.

The Asari stood in front of the door and thought to wave her keycard over the port. Then, she paused, and rang the doorbell. A scurry of feet stampeded towards the door and a small voice cried out, "What do you want?"

"No, Shari, not 'What do you want'. We ask 'Who is it?"

A reassuring Asari voice corrected the child from within, causing Liara to smile. This was something she had to look forward to. Teaching a child how to function within the niceties of society, not just how to write or walk. It might be an interesting challenge.

The door slid open, revealing a dark purple face peering out from a tiny Asari body. "Miss Liara," exclaimed the little girl. "It is very good to see you."

"And you, Shari. Thank you for getting the door for me."

Liara took a few steps in and passed through a gaggle of Asari children, their blue and purple skin forming an array of color Liara realized she missed. The Normandy was grays and greens, oranges and reds, seas of beige and black faces in angled boxes. Asari were all brilliant, gemstone hues and their culture was smooth and curving. Her heart ached and the baby within her flipped over a few times, knowing she was among her people.

Three Asari matrons reached out and embraced her. "Liara. It is good to see you. We didn't know the Normandy was docking today." A pale blue face, named Curie, smiled at her. "The girls would have prepared something had we known you were coming.

"That's not necessary," said Liara. "I'm just coming by to see how you all are getting on."

They walked her into the massive living room that barely resembled the place she had left. The fireplace was replaced with rows of desks and computer consoles. The bar and the pool table had been broken down to make room for a giant playroom. A full kitchen had been added, with enough plates and utensils to feed a gaggle of semi-starving Asari children.

Little girls were busy explaining all the things they had been doing since Liara last visited. Art was being thrust into her hands as she reached the top of the stairs and inspected, at their urging, the new bedrooms. A few of them were reciting poems and tiny bits of history they had learned that day.

The entire top floor had been reconfigured. Stacked bunkbeds lined the walls where the bookcases had been and the bathroom had been wildly expanded. The hot tub was gone, to Liara's private dismay, even though she didn't intend to use it ever again. The hot tub held fond memories. Perhaps Liara would have liked to soak in a real hot tub, enjoying real water, before returning to her ship for the next few weeks. The master bedroom, where she was not invited, likely has been changed to act as sleeping quarters for the matrons. They needed a place to regroup. Asari girls could be taxing. Liara supposed this was true of every race's children.

Liara went downstairs, positioned herself on a chair and let the wave of children overwhelm her. She practiced her mothering skills, addressing each one, cooing appropriately over homework and science presentations. When one attempted to show off her first biotic field, Liara quickly stopped her and stated such displays would be better suited for outdoors where there were fewer breakables nearby. Privately, Liara was glad they were initiating biotic training so early. Even with the Reapers gone, the Asari military was in disarray and future commandos needed a new level of discipline.

Despite her enthusiasm for the children, Liara found herself tiring of this amount of interaction. She realized how much time she spent alone in the office or interacting covertly with her agents. Curie, perceptive as always, gently steered the girls away and back to their studies while Briand ushered Liara into the administrative office.

"It is good to see you, Liara," said Briand. "The little girls view you as some sort of mythical princess bearing magical gifts. I'm not sure seeing you in person will make that better or worse, but a face in person is always better than one over a comm."

"And it is good to see you," replied Liara warmly. "I'm glad you been able to use the resources for remodeling. How many children do you have now?"

"Twenty," said Briand. "And we have a waiting list about 100 times that. We've been searching around the Citadel for other apartments that have been…vacated so we can expand further."

The two women shared a grim look. How many homes on the Citadel would never house their former inhabitants? Liara head begun making her own inquiries as to Citadel housing but it was low on her priority list. Seeing the children here, thriving and flourishing, pushed it up almost to the top.

"I'll check with my sources," said Liara enigmatically. "The limiting factor may be finding Asari willing to care for them."

"There's a waiting list for that, too," said Briand sadly. "Not just Asari mothers who have lost children. There are maidens who wonder whether bringing a child into this galaxy is fair but who nonetheless feel the pull of matronhood."

Another sad, shared moment. "How many children have you been able to reunite with their families?"

"Two," said Briand quietly. "And neither by their Asari mothers. As ironic as it seems, Krogan fathers fared better than Asari mothers during this war. Now that Tuchanka is being rebuilt and the genophage cured, I think Krogan males are taking family more seriously. We're hoping to continue the trend as we locate more orphans."

"Or it may be that the Krogan are less likely to claim Asari children because it is possible for them to have their own biological children," said Liara. It was more bitter than she had anticipated.

"I hope that is not the case but we won't know for some time, will we?"

"No, there are many Krogan females already raising their broods. I trust Eve to welcome all Krogan children, no matter what color they are." Liara corrected herself. She could imagine Wrex very happily instructing Asari children on how to use biotics against their rough-and-tumble younger brothers and sisters. He was good man and would be a good father.

"Well, we'll see," said Briand, her tone less chipper and more guarded. The topic was still disconcerting to her, Liara guessed. There were Asari who never forgot or forgave the brutality of the Krogan Rebellion. The galaxy was not universally pleased with the renewal of Krogan fertility.

"How are you doing for supplies," said Liara, changing the subject appropriately. "I've been trying to make sure…"

"We're doing well," said Briand. Relief crossed her. A more comfortable topic. "We can't get all the best equipment but everyone goes to bed with a full tummy and everyone wakes up in the morning for new lessons. Ideally, we'd be able to bring some of them back to their families but we all know that may not be a possibility."

"How are they handling...things?"

"The younger ones are confused. They don't understand why they can't talk to their mommies and daddies anymore. The older ones…well, let's just say that we must spend some of your money on repair bills. They act out, they retreat, or they try to become little adults. They are asking the same questions all of us are asking. When can they go home? Why there so many Asari without parents? Why does everyone seem so sad?"

Liara's child shifted within her. She didn't know what the future would be either. Liara disguised her uncertainty with forced reassurance. "I know you're all doing the best you can. What of your family? Any news from Thessia?"

Briand smiled. "My mother is fine. So is one of my sisters. We don't know where the other is. She's always been a bit of a wandering spirit. I think she'll come back from when she's ready." This was the hope or the lie of everyone with a missing family member, that the galaxy was in enough chaos that the missing were merely lost.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Liara, creaking out of her chair.

The matron rose along with Liara. "Would you like to stay for lunch, Liara? I'm sure the girls would love to hear some stories of being on the Normandy. They'll want to know about Shepard."

Liara must have looked pained because Briand quickly added, "if you're up for it. I know how much you have been traveling. I'll understand and I'm sure the girls will understand."

The young Asari swallowed her discomfort. "No, that will be fine."

Liara rapidly found herself surrounded by 20 pairs of grabbing hands and 20 curious mouths, all demanding her attention. So she told story after story about Shepard's bravery, Shepard's accomplishments, Shepard's laughter, Shepard's love of the Asari. Predictably, the girls were most excited when she described watching a thresher maw eat a Reaper even if none of them had seen a worm and most of them knew Reapers as lumbering shadows. Liara watched the matrons' faces for signs of guidance, cutting back more gruesome or intense details when the Asaris' eyebrows threatened to jump off their foreheads. At last, she ran out her ability to entertain and she went home, promising as she left to return when she could, no matter how hard it might be.


End file.
